


Of Pain, Warmth, And Home

by Nihonkikuasa211



Category: Code Black (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Mention of Malaya Pineda/Carla Niven, Post-Break Up, Scarves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-05
Updated: 2016-04-05
Packaged: 2018-05-31 08:44:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,146
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6463543
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nihonkikuasa211/pseuds/Nihonkikuasa211
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Christa still keeps the scarf. Despite the passage of time, the resident only wants to talk to Neal again with the resemblance of the relationship they had before they got together. When Neal calls to Christa, the resident and the surgical attending find themselves talking to each other for the first time in six months. Will Christa mention the scarf that she still has, and will Neal admit his feelings?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Of Pain, Warmth, And Home

**Author's Note:**

> I don't exactly think this is my best work, but I kept on thinking about scarves because of the weather and remembered that Christa had gotten a scarf from Neal (who had gotten it from Grace), and wondered about the literary symbolism of scarves.

_Of Pain, Warmth, And Home_

Christa still kept the scarf. She remembered of how she had held the material against her chest, as if it would be able to soothe away the broken hurts in her heart. The cloth was black and dark red with a checkered pattern, and Christa spent many sleepless nights observing it. Caressing the material absentmindedly. It was hard to forgot.

            It was hard to forgot of how Neal had looked when she told him that she was nobody’s second choice. In the beginning, steeling herself not to look back and biting back whatever words she had left, Christa had been angry. She had been angry that Neal said nothing to her, that he only stared at her and watched her walk away. A part of her wondered if she had been angry with Neal also for choosing Grace’s patient over hers, and it took her a couple of days lying alone in her own bed that no, she wasn’t angry over that. Christa was staring at her digital clock, wondering to herself of how sad she must look. Bundled up in her bedsheets like a crying child, and hugging the scarf her ex-boyfriend had given her, which had been given by her other ex-girlfriend who she worked with.

            Her eyes remained dry and her limbs refused to shake, but Christa felt empty.

            She was a second choice, and the first year resident would not allow the insecurity and doubts continue any longer. And yet, the words she had said resurfaced in her mind as she remembered the look on Neal’s face.

            Pain. Shock. Everything but the anger or any other negative emotion she had expected. Christa bit her lip as her fists tightened on the scarf against her chest as tears started to trail down her cheeks. The look in his eyes…as if she could see into his soul.

            And there was nothing but pain.

            _Why don’t you ever say anything?_ Christa had allowed herself to sob into her pillow after coming home after breaking up with Neal. _Why…must you look at me with those eyes?_ It took most of her willpower to not think about her son – her beloved son who still meant so much to her, and who would love…

            Christa stopped that thought as soon as it had come. _It’s for the best,_ the resident had repeated to herself as her fingers caressed the cloth made of black and red. _I need to remember who I am without Neal. I need to._ It didn’t feel right though. It didn’t feel right when she saw Neal walking away after a shift at Angles, alone. Or when she saw him watching her when he thought she wasn’t looking. _“You need to talk to him,”_ Malaya had said to her on one occasion. The younger resident had noted how distant Christa was to Neal, and understanding appeared in her warm brown eyes as she looked into the growing fear in the blonde’s expression. _“Your heart screams for you to not talk to that person anymore, even though your mind wants nothing more to hold them and never let them go.”_ Here Malaya put her hand on Christa’s shoulder as sorrow echoed across her expression. _“Listen to your mind this time. You might not get a second chance.”_ Christa had been unable to reply. She was only able to stand motionless as she watched as Malaya walking out of the locker room. The echo of the closed door remained in her mind.

            Christa knew that Malaya was talking about Carla. Although Malaya was a private person, Christa had heard that a former resident had died soon after giving birth to her son, and that Malaya had been there when she had died. It had occurred the same day when Christa had made that innuendo to Neal. _“Yeah. To bed. Want to come?”_ She would never forget the look on his face. Laughter started to bubble in her chest as a small cry emerged from her throat at the thought of Neal. It had shocked her of how much her life revolved around the British surgical attending. Being with him had been the happiest that Christa had been in months…in _years_ , in fact.

            Now all she had of him was a scarf soaked too much by her tears, and a broken relationship.

            She acted as if she never knew him, but it was hard. It was hard to not have the relationship they had before. Although Christa would tell no one, not even Dr. Rorish who she shared a connection of loss and grief, within her heart she wished that she could one day simply talk to Neal again.

            Christa slept again with scarf across her chest.

* * *

 

            “Christa?” The resident jumped and her heart almost collapsed at the sight of Neal standing behind the thin wall of glass that separated them from each other. Even though Christa could not hear Neal call her name, she recognized the way his mouth moved when saying her name. The blond resident could almost imagine Neal’s face, concern and worry across his features. She didn’t look at him.

            What would happen if she did?

            _No,_ she though at the sound of the supply closet opening. _No._ Without even looking up, Christa could tell Neal had opened the door to the supply closest and – could be – standing in front of her. _Damn it,_ she thought with rare frustration. Christa squeezed her eyes shut.

            “Christa.” Despite breaking up with him, the sound of her name from his lips caused the blond resident’s hear to increase. Her name was quietly stated, almost like a caress, and Christa failed to not remember of the other time Neal had found her in the supply closet. It had been when he had tried to comfort her over the death of Kelly. She could still remember the feel of his forehead against hers, comforting and warm as an embrace. Christa licked her lips at the memory of their first kiss. How many times had they kissed in the supply closet on that day?

            Four times.

            And now Christa opened her eyes to find herself in a similar scene.

            Neal appeared to want to say something but didn’t. He looked uncertain, and the apprehension echoed in his eyes as Christa felt his dark brown eyes looking at her.

            “Christa…” There was a pause, and the blond resident looked across to find Neal touching the nape of his neck, almost as if remembering of how Christa had once kissed him there. A distant look appeared in his dark brown eyes for a moment. “It’s been six months, Christa. Since we actually spoke to each other and _talked_ to each other.” There wasn’t judgement in his voice regarding both of their actions; only sadness. “I didn’t lose my…ex-girlfriend that night, Christa. I also lost a friend.”

            “I’m sorry.” Christa gasped. It was a sudden gasp that tore from her throat, and she could feel Neal’s surprise from where he continued to stand in front of her. “I’m sorry about all of this.”

            “No.” Neal’s accent, normally fainter from his years spent in the States, become more pronounced as he stared into Christa’s blue eyes. “No. I didn’t…tell you anything. About Grace.” There was a faint pause at the mention of the name, and Neal slowly sat down on the floor. “I didn’t tell you about our relationship, or how it affected ours.”

            Now Christa could hear Neal’s breathing as they sat down beside each other. His eyes, like that night, were bright with calmly held agony. She could see him swallow for a moment before he continued.

            “I’m sorry.”

            That was all it took for Christa to break the tears that she had been holding inside of her since she saw Neal mouth her name. The surgical attending across from her didn’t react to her tears. Christa could feel his gaze, understanding and gentle, as the thick and warm tears fell down her cheeks.

            “I felt too much towards your relationship towards Grace.” Christa felt a long sigh escape from her chest, and it felt to her that a heavy burden had been lifted. _I didn’t think about how you must have been hurt so much when Grace didn’t marry you. I…only thought about how I could only be your second choice._ “You haven’t asked me about my ex-husband when we were together.” Christa could see Neal nod slowly, his eyes never leaving hers. “It was one of the things that I…” A breath caught in her throat, and Christa pushed herself to not say those words. ‘I half-wondered, lying in bed to myself, if you would have reacted in a similar manner if he ever came here one day. Wanting another chance, or simply just being by my side.” Christa tried to remember the love she had for her ex-husband but couldn’t. Perhaps it was because Neal was looking at her so intently, or perhaps… “I came to the conclusion that you would more than likely be more concerned with me and what I was experiencing instead of…you.”

            “Christa –” Neal tried to say, but the blond resident pressed her finger against her lips to quiet him.

            “You think too much, and I…feel too much.” Christa blinked and allowed herself to breathe as her chest tightened at the soulful look in Neal’s eyes. “It’s just like you,” she stated faintly, “to act like the way you did. As for me…” Christa bit her lip and looked away.

            “I still have the scarf you gave me.” There was no response, so Christa continued. “I don’t know how many tears that material has soaked into, and I can’t tell you of how I hated and loved that scarf at the same time.”

            “Why the scarf?” Neal asked. He seemed genuinely bewildered. Christa’s only reply was a faint smile.

            “You told me that when you gave me the scarf that it would keep me warm.” A bittersweet expression echoed across the resident’s face as she stared at the surgical attending. “But…what I didn’t tell you was that it was you who kept me warm. I was happy with the gift, because it was you who gave it to me. I’m such a romantic…but I felt as if I could feel your arms around me…your warmth surrounding me…as I pulled it around me.

            “And when our relationship ended, it was the only shard of warmth I still had of you.”

            Neal moved closer to Christa. The blond resident felt the slight knock of his knees against hers, and she felt the warmth and kindness in his eyes as he whispered quietly what she meant.

            _My gentle Neal…_ It was the first time Christa had thought of Neal that way, having not yet reached that point in love where she truly felt that he was something precious enough to belong with her.

            “You were my warmth, Neal.” Fresh tears spilled down her cheeks, and Christa could feel the saltiness against her palate. The man’s right hand caressed her own, almost not touching and yet she could feel the ghost-like presence of his fingers against her smaller ones. “The warmth that had been vacant inside me for so long was finally found again. I was so happy with you, and then all I had were memories, misinterpreted words, and a scarf that held no warmth at all.”

            Christa calmed as Neal tightened his grip on her hand. She looked into his eyes – truly looked into them – and saw the Neal Hudson that she had thought she had wanted to forget. _He is like a scarf,_ Christa thought to herself as she saw the empathy in the attending’s gaze. _So warm and gentle…taking away the cold and the frozen worlds that surrounded me._

“When I gave you that scarf,” Neal stated slowly. His voice was quiet, and a faint faraway look appeared in his eyes. “I gave it to you because I thought that I was ready to move on. To move on from Grace.” His thumb started to stroke her fingers, and Christa instinctively leaned against his shoulder. “I wanted to give the gift from someone who meant so much to me, who had _departed_ from my life, to someone who I…” He paused. Christa looked at him, and her blue eyes widened when she saw an achingly familiar gleam in his eyes.

            “To someone that I loved.”

            Christa felt her heart stop at the sound of Neal’s words. She could almost feel his apprehension of not knowing what his ex-girlfriend would say to such a confession. Her voice caught in her throat for a moment, and the resident swallowed thickly before looking at the man who she had thought she could live without.

            “Come home with me,” she whispered.

**Author's Note:**

> Should I continue?


End file.
